


A Whole Apart

by crookedfingers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pre-Canon, Some violent imagery, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, emetophobia warning, extravagant use of colons, partial asphyxia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedfingers/pseuds/crookedfingers
Summary: Ana Amari requests stress relief.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story can be considered part of the same continuity as [_Strange Ways_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7654312), but both stories are completely standalone.

Ana’s hands don’t start shaking until after her debriefing.  
  
She finds this annoying. She’d rather get all the useless quavering out of the way as soon as possible, before she has to start dealing with all the other parts of her life. It isn’t doing her any good.  
  
As soon as she’s dismissed, she makes her way to her quarters without speaking to anyone and throws up there in the private bathroom. She kneels on the cold tile floor for awhile, her hair hanging loose around her face, and then she gets up, takes off all her clothes, and brushes her teeth. She leans her forehead against the mirror and brushes continually for four or five minutes: her mouth slack and half open, drooling foam straight down into the sink until the froth turns thin and pink. After she rinses her stinging mouth, she puts on a fresh change of clothes and sends a message to both Jack and Gabriel: _meet me @ morrisons_.  
  
Then she goes to the mess kitchens to make a cup of tea. She selects an orange, too, and peels the rind off in a single long spiral, and eats it one segment at a time. When she’s done with the tea and the orange, her hands are steady again. Her body feels habitable. She figures that she’s given Jack and Gabriel enough time to convene by that point, so off she goes to find them.  
  
Jack opens the door after only two knocks. His hair is mussed. Gabriel is standing farther back in the room with his arms crossed, but he drops his arms and takes one step toward the door when he sees her.  
  
“Ana,” Jack says, reaching out as though to touch her but stopping short, “we heard—”  
  
“Good,” she cuts him off. “Then you don’t need to ask me how my day has been.”  
  
She steps past him and starts to unbutton her shirt. After a second, Jack remembers to close the door.  
  
“I want to get fucked,” she says. “By both of you.”  
  
To her immense satisfaction, Gabriel has to open his mouth twice before he can get out a response: “You got some kind of preference about who goes first, or do you want us to flip a coin?”  
  
Ana barely manages to stop herself from smiling. She can always count on Gabriel Reyes to respond to any surprise—good or bad, dire or mundane—with a kind of grim, put-upon practicality. She wants to kiss him for it. Instead, she throws her shirt at his face. He catches it.  
  
“I said ‘both,’ didn’t I? I meant _both_.”  
  
Jack makes his way over to Gabriel; they stand side by side, a solid wall of muscle and confused, masculine concern. Jack laughs quietly, uneasy. “Jesus, Ana, are you sure you’re all right?”  
  
Ana steps out of her pants. She reaches behind her back and flicks the clasps of her bra open. “I don’t think I said anything at all about how I feel, but I did tell you what I want. If you want me to put my clothes back on, please say so soon.”  
  
Jack and Gabriel exchange a look. It’s not even a capital-“L”-look; their expressions don’t change. They just look at one another in a completely normal way, but something passes between them. They have an entire language unto themselves: modes of communication so inscrutable that Ana, who knows them better than anyone, can barely understand all the cues they share. But she knows them well enough to anticipate Jack’s answer even before he turns back to her and says, “Anything you want, Ana.”  
  
“How could we turn down such a romantic invitation?” Gabriel asks blandly. He frowns. “How do you want to do this?”  
  
Ana kicks her underwear off her ankle. “I don’t know,” she says with equal blandness. “You’re the tacticians, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure something out.”  
  
They fail to figure something out.  
  
Within twenty seconds, he and Jack are having an actual argument about the logistics of the best way to fuck her. Forty-five seconds after _that_ , Gabriel is prepared to find something on which to draw diagrams and is in the middle of saying “that won’t work unless you want to _break her fucking legs_ ” when Ana rams herself into Jack, grabs him by the hair, and kisses him until he gasps for breath. She puts her thigh between his legs.  
  
Going after Jack is the best way to get Gabriel involved in anything that’s happening. And it works: she gets her hands under the back of Jack’s shirt and her tongue into his mouth, and that’s when Gabriel closes in on them from the side. He grabs her jaw, pulls her face around, and bites her lip: not hard enough to break skin, but not gentle, either. She laughs breathily into his mouth and, without looking, pops the button on Jack’s trousers.  
  
This is the part she loves: whittling them down, stripping them of their guises. She’s naked between them, but this is her game.  
  
As Gabriel holds her head in place, she sticks her hand down the back of Jack’s trousers and grabs a handful of his ass. He makes a little noise—just an inhale, really—but the sound of it gets Gabriel’s attention and makes him raise his head. She nips the underside of his chin. He growls and spins her around so they’re fully face-to-face and winds a hand into her hair, close to the scalp, so she can’t turn away again. Ana doesn’t mind. She looks him dead in the eye as she takes his other hand and guides it between her own legs, letting him feel that she’s already wet for this. Gabriel’s mouth parts slightly; he skims his finger over her cunt, letting his fingertips get just barely slippery.  
  
Of course, Gabriel’s mistake is that by preventing her from touching Jack, he’s left Jack unsecured—and suddenly Jack is there, pressing up against Gabriel’s back, his hands unbuckling Gabriel’s belt, untucking his shirt, dipping below his waistband.  
  
“Uh-oh,” she says lightly. “You’ve been flanked. Sloppy.”  
  
“What a predicament,” Gabriel deadpans at the exact same moment he slides his middle finger into her all the way to the last knuckle. Ana laughs, somewhat breathlessly, and says, “yeah”—not so much in agreement as in encouragement. She’s still holding him by the wrist, and she rolls the base of his palm against her clit and rocks down on his hand. He curls his middle finger, rubbing back against her from the inside. Her knees start to feel unreliable. And, meanwhile, there’s Jack: Jack making eye contact as he sucks on the side of Gabriel’s neck; Jack with one hand pulling Gabriel’s shirt up to expose his whole belly and chest; Jack with his other hand pushed down Gabriel’s pants, stroking him hard. Ana can see the thick shape of Gabriel’s cock under Jack’s fingers.  
  
Ana feels a sudden pulse of blood to her head: not from embarrassment, but a kind of desperate, half-crazed want, and she thinks, without any sense of contradiction, how nice it would be for all of them to tear each other’s throats out with their teeth.  
  
She lets go of Gabriel’s wrist and puts both hands on his hips, and she pulls his pants and his underwear down his thighs until the big, heavy weight of his erection is exposed. Ana cups the the swell of the underside, feeling the heat and rigid softness.  
  
“ _Hhuh_ ,” Gabriel says, and then: “Why are your hands so fucking cold?”  
  
Ana just makes a vague noise in response. She recognizes that Gabriel has asked a non-essential question, but the specific words don’t really register in her mind because she’s entirely focused, instead, on watching one of Jack’s big hands slide around to join hers. He pulls the foreskin back and rubs his thumb around and around. Their fingers bump together as they touch Gabriel.  
  
She’s so invested on what she and Jack are doing that she mostly forgets about Gabriel himself until he adjusts the hand still between her legs and slips not one but two more fingers into her at once. She jolts, and her fingers grip tighter in retaliation.  
  
“Should we, um,” she slurs. “Bed?”  
  
“First things first,” Jack says, and drops onto one knee to strip Gabriel’s pants and underwear all the way down his legs. Ana snags Gabriel’s shirt and peels it the rest of the way over his head. He has to pull his fingers out of her as the shirt slides over his arms. As soon as he’s bare, Gabriel turns around to take off Jack’s clothes, but Jack just gives them a little shove and sends all three of them walking, only a little clumsily, across the room. Before they reach the bed, Ana manages to step out of her way before any large men can fall onto her, and she helps Jack push Gabriel onto his back at the foot of the bed. But, alas: Gabriel hooks her on his way down, and she tumbles on top of him. She tries to rise onto her hands and knees, but Jack grabs her from behind and flips her over like a pancake, and she and Gabriel both end up on their backs, stacked on top of one another, with their legs hanging off the bed.  
  
Gabriel props himself up on his elbows. Ana goes limp and turns herself into dead weight on top of him. Her head rests comfortably on his shoulder.  
  
“Going to take off your clothes or what, Morrison?” he asks.  
  
Jack is standing over them, his legs nearly touching theirs.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, vaguely, but he doesn't make any move to follow through. Then his expression solidifies into something that makes the hair on the back of Ana’s neck rise. “Gabriel. Hold her legs open. Let’s give her a taste of what she wants.”  
  
Gabriel hooks his hands under her knees and draws her legs apart, and Jack goes down on one knee in front of them. He lays his palm against her stomach and then draws his hand all the way down her body, all the way to Gabriel’s cock. He takes it in his hand, strokes a couple of times, and guides it into her in one slow, relentless push. The angle prevents her from taking the whole thing, but her toes are still curled by the time Jack withdraws his hand. A few seconds pass during which they all simply collect themselves.  
  
“Alright,” she says, trying not to stammer. “Are you going to show us your dick now, Morrison?”  
  
Jack is biting his lip, looking them over. His eyes roam over their faces, over their bodies. He’s red from his neck to his forehead like someone who’s been out in the cold. Ana wants him to press her flat and drive the breath out of her.  
  
Instead he simply leans forward and runs two fingers between her legs, where Gabriel’s cock is buried. He puts a little pressure on them, pressing the very tips of his fingers inward. “I think this will be easier if you’re more relaxed,” he murmurs.  
  
“I-I’m not sure if I can get more relaxed.”  
  
“I think you can.” He raises his eyes to her face. His eyes are very bright. “I’m going to make you come first, Ana.”  
  
Ana laughs, because what else does she have at her disposal right now other than bravado? “Oh, _are_ you?”  
  
“Yes,” he responds, calmly. “Can you hold out for awhile, Gabriel?”  
  
“Why didn’t you decide to do this earlier?” Gabriel scoffs. “I’m fine. Just make it quick.”  
  
“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Jack says good-naturedly. He circles a finger over her clit, and then he bends down and puts his mouth between her legs. She makes a truly embarrassing noise, and Gabriel breathes in, quick and sharp, like he’s just brushed against a heating coil.  
  
Jack’s eyes are open, and he looks straight up at her as he works his tongue against her—against them. It’s completely obscene. Both of her hands fly off the bed, and then, not sure what to do with them, she has to put them down again and clutch at the bed sheets. Jack’s mouth is very wet, and he takes big, panting breaths whenever he draws back slightly. Her legs tense and jerk, trying to close each time Jack sweeps his tongue against her. But she’s held open—by Gabriel’s hands, by Gabriel’s cock—without any defenses, and every time Gabriel feels her legs try to snap shut around Jack’s head, his grip tightens.  
  
She manages to hold out admirably until the point when Gabriel’s hips suddenly jolt once, twice. She can’t tell whether it was intentional or if he just lost control of himself for an instant, but the effect is still the same. Her hands fly from the sheets to the back of Jack’s head, and she pulls him flush against her and ruts her hips frantically, shamelessly against his mouth. Jack’s eyes flutter and shut; he leans into her, body going lax, and makes a soft, deep, hungry noise in his throat.  
  
Ana’s whole body ripples and seizes up. She tips into orgasm with a gasp, and Gabriel very nearly loses his hold on her legs. She rides it out against Jack’s mouth, shuddering—and Gabriel gives the softest little groan, his hips helplessly rocking as she goes tight around him. Jack doesn’t pull away as they bump against his face.  
  
Then she can’t take any more. She yanks Jack’s head away by his hair before both of her hands flop nervelessly onto the bed on either side of her body. Gabriel lets her legs down slowly.  
  
Jack sits back on his heels, his face flushed and shiningly wet from nose to chin. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and looks at them with happiness and satisfaction.  
  
“Oh my god, Morrison,” she manages to say, eventually.  
  
Jack levers himself onto his knees. “How are you doing, Gabriel?”  
  
There’s a significant pause before Gabriel says: “I’m f…ine.”  
  
Both she and Jack perk up and share an ecstatic look.  
  
“He stammered!” she whispers. “Ten points!”  
  
“That wasn’t a stammer,” Gabriel snaps.  
  
“Who gets the points?” Jack asks. “It was an ambiguous situation.”  
  
“We can split them,” she decides. “Five points each.”  
  
“Accepted.”  
  
Jack rocks forward with one arm outstretched, and they slap their hands together. Gabriel says, “Jesus Christ.”  
  
Ana still feels the trembling little aftershocks of orgasm, but she’s determined to accomplish the objective, so she swings one of her feet sideways and thumps it repeatedly against Jack’s shoulder. “Think I’m relaxed enough now, Morrison?”  
  
Jack blocks her foot with his forearm. He flashes his teeth at her. “Let’s find out.”  
  
He stands up and walks around to the head of the bed. When he comes back, he’s holding a bottle of lubricant. Disappointingly, he doesn’t remove a single article of clothing before he kneels again and squeezes a dollop of lube into his hand.  
  
“I’m going to use my hands now,” he says.  
  
Ana groans with impatience. “Oh, come on, can’t you ever just— Okay, fine, okay. Whatever makes you happy.”  
  
Jack snorts softly. “Thank you for your gracious cooperation.”  
  
Ana has one brief moment to prepare herself before Jack runs a slippery-cool finger around her cunt, pauses to look her in the eyes, and then ever-so-fucking slowly eases it into her alongside Gabriel’s cock.  
  
“Fuck!” Ana says.  
  
“Fuck,” Gabriel says, more quietly.  
  
Jack looks into her face. “Does that hurt?”  
  
“Yeah,” she breathes. “Give me another.”  
  
Half of Jack’s mouth tilts up: a fond but concerned smile. “Ana. We don’t have to do this if it hurts.”  
  
Ana clenches her hands into fists, then musters up enough breath to sigh. “Might I remind you gentlemen that I have a daughter? Do you want me to tell you her measurements at birth? She was a very healthy baby.”  
  
Gabriel makes a faint, strangled noise beside her ear. “That’s disgusting, Amari.”  
  
“It’s not disgusting; it’s normal. More normal than you abominations of nature.”  
  
There’s a beat of silence. She sees Jack’s eyes slide off her face: meeting Gabriel’s gaze across her shoulder with one of those neutral expressions that could mean an entire world of things. The room goes cold.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That wasn’t funny. I didn’t mean it.”  
  
“Oh, it’s a little funny. You can take my word for it. But if we’re abominations,” Jack starts to say, but it’s Gabriel who finishes, dryly: “What does that make you, Amari?”  
  
And the tension is gone, just like that.  
  
Ana gives a drawn out ‘ _hmmmm_ ,’ miming a moment of exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Well, what do you call someone who fraternizes with abominations? I’m a heretic, I suppose.”  
  
Jack chuckles. Gabriel doesn’t actually laugh out loud, but he gives a sort of amused rumble that Ana feels against the whole length of her back. A disgustingly genuine feeling of affection bubbles up in her lungs.  
  
“And what happens to heretics?” Jack asks.  
  
“They get punished,” Gabriel supplies.  
  
“Oh _no_ ,” Ana says.  
  
Jack nods. “Oh, yes. Severely.”  
  
He grins a little, then wets his lips. His eyes drop away from her face—and then there’s another finger, pressing in and in and in. Ana closes her eyes and steadies her breathing. This is—nothing, really. It’s not _real_ discomfort. It can stop at any time, and it’s not _meant_ to hurt her. So she can get through it, and she doesn’t need all of Jack’s hesitation and gentleness.  
  
“Okay,” she says when she senses him pause again. “Another.”  
  
Jack doesn’t ask if she sure this time. More lube, another finger: slow but unfaltering.  
  
Once Jack has given her three fingers, Ana realizes that she hasn’t heard or felt any further reaction from Gabriel. She opens her eyes and swivels her head around to get as good of a look at him as she can manage. His expression is completely blank. He’s staring straight across at the far side of the room. His eyelids flicker slightly, but he’s otherwise unmoving, unresponsive.  
  
Holy shit, Ana thinks delightedly. This is really getting to him. He’s trying not to lose it.  
  
She opens her mouth to heckle him—which is the same instant that Jack curves his fingers and starts moving his hand. Ana’s whole body twists sideways without conscious intent. Gabriel regains his worldly awareness just in time to catch her before she can topple off him.  
  
“Jack, you— Fuck— You’re going to make me w— we— piss myself, Morrison.”  
  
“Sorry,” Jack says, but he doesn’t fucking _stop_.  
  
Ana balls her hands up and thinks, don’t come, don’t come, don’t come. But it quickly becomes clear that “mind over body” is only going to get her so far. She can feel little tremors building up throughout her whole lower body. Her skin feels hot and tight. And so she makes a desperate lunge and smacks the heel of her palm against his forehead.  
  
“That’s enough,” she says with a steely calm that is somewhat belied by her shaking legs.  
  
Jack’s mouth is slightly open, his pupils all wide. There’s sweat around his hairline.  
  
He just looks at her for a moment, and then he slowly sits back and withdraws his hand—one, two, three fingers. Then he stands up and starts to undress: shirt, pants, underwear. The head of his cock, where it was pressed against the inside of his thigh, has left a wet spot.  
  
Ana glances at Gabriel for a reaction. His eyes have refocused, and he’s watching Jack wolfishly. He rolls his hips in tight little circles and rakes the fingernails of one hand up the outside of her thigh. “Come on, Morrison,” he rumbles. “Come on.”  
  
Jack has already slicked himself with the lube, and now he’s standing directly at the foot of the bed. His shadow falls across them. He puts one hand on Gabriel’s leg and bends it up so he can slide one of his own knees onto the bed. Then he takes himself in hand and presses against her— _into_ her.  
  
For a few seconds she thinks that she was wrong: that this is too much for her to take. That it hurts too much. She shoves her face blindly into Gabriel’s neck and sets her mouth over his hammering pulse: not a kiss or a bite, just a way to muffle herself. Gabriel’s fingers tighten on her thighs in a series of spasms, and, quietly, as though from a great distance, she hears him say, “ _Jack_.” She pulls her face from his neck and looks up. He’s closed his eyes, and there’s sweat on his temples; his expression is hazy and almost pained. She looks at Jack—and Jack’s eyes are dark with a kind of want she’s never seen before. She forgets about her own body, about the discomfort. For a moment, none of them have distinct bodies. There are no boundaries at all. She thinks of bird eggs, broken: oozing into one another, an indistinguishable mess.  
  
When the moment passes, Jack’s hips are flush against hers, and Gabriel’s eyes are open again. All of them are breathing unsteadily.  
  
Jack looks into her face. He doesn’t say anything, but she tips her chin and gives the smallest of nods: _give it to me_.  
  
But Jack still doesn’t move, so she braces herself with handfuls of the bedsheets and levers herself against him. Both Jack and Gabriel make a noise— _uhh_ —but Jack takes the hint.  
  
When she moves again, Jack bites his lip and rolls his hips into her in counterpoint, and it makes her feel like she’s been flipped upside-down with all her blood pooling in her head. They establish a cautious rhythm, rocking together in tandem. But it’s too cautious, unsatisfying. They don’t want to hurt her. They don’t think she can handle it.  
  
So Ana reaches between her own legs and squeezes the base of his cock.  
  
”Come on, Morrison,” she says. “Fuck us like you mean it.”  
  
Jack stops moving altogether. He looks into Ana’s face, and she senses herself being… measured. Studied like a tactical problem. _How much stress can this thing handle? What kind of pressure can it take_ before _it breaks?_  
  
He shifts backwards, pulling out, and stands up.  
  
“Get on your feet, Gabriel,” he says. “Pick her up.”  
  
Gabriel doesn’t even question it. He sits up, re-establishes his grip on her legs, and says, “Hold on,” which is the last warning Ana gets before Gabriel stands and lifts her with him. It’s embarrassingly easy for him: the entire motion is smooth and effortless. She says “what the fuck” out loud to herself and flattens herself back against Gabriel’s torso, reaching over her own head to wind her arms around the back of his neck for balance. She stares at her feet, hanging uselessly in the air, and feels the suffocating pressure of helplessness and need.  
  
Which is when Jack grabs Gabriel by the shoulders, turns him, and steers him bodily across the room until his back hits the wall.  
  
“Don’t move from this spot,” he says, low and dark.  
  
Gabriel just grunts. Jack crowds them up against the wall, standing in the space between Ana’s legs. He fills her field of vision. He looks her in the eyes again, and she looks back at him, and then he lines himself up and pushes back into her all at once. Ana clenches her teeth but still makes a sound, like a gasp, from inside her throat, and Gabriel’s head thumps audibly against the wall. This angle isn’t easy: with her legs drawn up, she’s tighter than she was while she was on her back. But it’s good, too; it’s fucking good. Gravity work in her favor by pulling her more fully onto Gabriel’s cock, and there’s a new intensity to the pressure of having both of them inside her. O Gracious God, it’s a lot. One of her hands flies out and latches onto Jack’s shoulder, half out of blind desperation to hold onto something else and half because she wants some way of communicating to him if she finds herself unable to speak. Her other hand stays clenched at the nape of Gabriel’s neck.  
  
As soon as he feels her hand, Jack hitches her hips higher and starts fucking her in earnest.  
  
Ana yells, “ _Shit!_ ” One of her legs reflexively kicks out, and her foot sails harmlessly through the space between Jack and Gabriel’s bodies. Both of her legs spasm and jerk, and she locks them together around the small of Jack’s back.  
  
Jack slaps his hands against the wall and leans his weight into them: pinning both of them against the wall, pinning Ana between two bigger bodies. She’s chest-to-chest with Jack, her breasts pushed up high and round against his body. Jack’s pace is brutally hard, but Gabriel himself is barely moving, just cushioning Ana from the wall and enduring it as Jack drives against them.  
  
A squeak is very nearly forced out of her throat. Mortified, she does the first thing she can think of to prevent herself from making any noise: she drags Gabriel’s head down into a neck-straining kiss. He resists it at first. His jaw is locked tight, and she has to nudge aggressively at his mouth before she’s able to draw her bottom lip between her teeth. He allows it to happen for a moment, his breath bursting hotly against her face; but, eventually, he wrenches his head away, tooth marks now denting his darkened lips. He leans his head back against the wall—and Jack immediately goes for his throat, growling. Gabriel tries to swallow down a groan, and Jack crowds in, as close as possible. His rhythm shifts into long, grinding rolls, his pelvis rubbing against her clit, and, _oh_.  
  
Ana comes again so abruptly that she’s not entirely prepared for it. She doesn’t have enough space to move or control her position or the way Jack and Gabriel are moving, so she just has to hang on and take it: Jack’s hips, and Jack’s cock, and Gabriel’s cock, and fuck, _fuck_. Both of her hands tighten convulsively, her arms drawing back toward her own body, inadvertently dragging Jack toward her by his shoulder and Gabriel by his neck until their heads and faces are crowded together, bumping into one another, and she can actually hear Gabriel grinding his teeth next to her ear.  
  
At last, when she feels like she’s going to burst at the seams, she slaps her hand down twice on Jack’s shoulder.  
  
Jack goes still, and Ana lets out a breath that dangerously close to a sob. Gabriel’s jaw creaks audibly as his teeth unclench.  
  
Ana allows herself to hang there in the space between them as an entire river system of sweat rolls down her neck and chest. Her body throbs in time with her heartbeat, like a bruise.  
  
Then Jack moves his feet a little, shifting his weight, and gently rocks his hips.  
  
It is at that moment that Ana realizes that both he and Gabriel are still hard. She rears back and gapes at him.  
  
“ _Neither_ of you came?” she blurts. “What— the fuck?”  
  
“Abominations, remember,” Gabriel says dully, and Ana laughs, a little wild.  
  
“Mmm,” Jack rumbles, grazing his teeth against her jaw and then leaning further forward to brush his mouth against Gabriel’s. “The next time Ana comes, you’re going to come, too.”  
  
“What?” Gabriel says.  
  
“What?” Ana says, louder. “I can’t do that again, Jack.”  
  
“Why not?” he asks.  
  
Ana opens her mouth, then closes it. She turns toward Gabriel for support. He shrugs.  
  
Jack pulls of his hands away from the wall and settles it loosely at the base of her throat. His thumb rubs back and forth along the ridge of her collarbone. He says, placidly, “Okay. Just say the word and we’ll stop.”  
  
Ana swallows and focuses on the movement of her throat against Jack’s hand. She focuses on her heart, her lungs. She breathes slowly and deliberately, and everything slows and settles.  
  
Was she worried? About what? About _sex_?  
  
“Ha,” she says out loud after a long moment of silence. “Fine. Let’s see you live up to that talk.”  
  
Jack grins, showing all his teeth, and lets go of her throat. “Just hold on tight, okay?”  
  
He takes Gabriel’s right arm and pulls it out from under her leg, and he guides Gabriel’s hand to her throat. Gabriel’s fingers settle on either side of her neck, a careful but firm pressure. Then Jack reaches his own right hand past her and puts it around Gabriel’s neck.  
  
He says: “When I squeeze, you squeeze. When I let go, you let go. Understood?”  
  
Ana feels Gabriel nod, just once. He’s breathing slow and heavy through his nose. Ana nods, too.  
  
Jack smiles at them, and then he starts to move. Ana pinches her lips together as sparks race up her spine. A moment later, Gabriel squeezes down her neck. It lasts for only a few seconds before he loosens his fingers, but it makes her head drift away to somewhere strange.  
  
Jack’s pace is slower than it was earlier. He pushes into her with long waves of motion, and Gabriel sways in tandem. It goes on and on, and every few moments there’s pressure at her throat. She tries to count the duration of each of the chokes, but she finds, whenever Gabriel lets go, that she can’t remember what number she ended on. She closes her eyes.  
  
She listens to Gabriel breathe: thick gulps of air that become faster as the tempo of Jack’s hips slowly increases. She can still breathe even when her throat is squeezed, and so can Gabriel, but it feels like there’s no oxygen in the room.  
  
Both of her arms are looped over Jack’s shoulders now, but her legs start to slacken and slide down from his waist. But the rest of her body is pinned so tightly in place by the sheer closeness of Jack’s body that she barely budges from between them. She’s aware of Gabriel’s legs trembling, but when he starts to sag down the wall, Jack says _stay on your feet_ , and Gabriel does. He makes soft, wounded sounds.  
  
She forgets, during those moments while her head is half untethered, that any of them might actually come, and she’s somewhat startled when it does. It’s nothing like her previous orgasms. The build up is so gradual that she doesn’t even recognize the sensation, and it seems to happen in slow motion. But it hits her with steadfast and crushing force, like an enormous wave that appears small in the distance until it reaches land. Her stomach clenches; her thighs and calves tense. She whimpers—ungraceful, uncomposed—and puts her face against Jack’s neck as she quakes between them. And then Gabriel’s arm drops away from her neck completely, and he lays his hands against the border between her hips and Jack’s, and his head bows onto her shoulder. He shakes, and he chokes. And Jack ruts his hips again, again, again, and then his back stretches out and he curves his whole body toward them, groaning.  
  
An indefinite amount of time passes during which none of them move. It’s possible that Ana falls asleep for a moment. She jolts back to her senses when her legs fall down completely and her feet strike the floor. She jerks her legs back up and clenches them around Jack’s waist.  
  
“How’s… everyone doing?” Jack wheezes.  
  
“I can’t feel my legs,” Ana croaks.  
  
“Okay; just keep holding on.” Together with Gabriel, he helps lift her a little higher so they can both pull out, along with a somewhat astonishing gush of fluids. Whatever, Ana thinks dimly. Someone else can handle the clean up. She puts both her arms around the back of Jack’s neck and holds him more tightly with her legs. Gabriel passes all of her weight over to Jack and lets her go. Jack says “hup!” as he bounces her up for a better grip.  
  
“Go to the bed,” she mumbles into Jack’s neck, and he obediently carries her across the room and sits on the the edge of the bed. When she pushes him, he allows himself to be tumbled onto his back. For awhile neither of them move, even though Jack is probably uncomfortable with Ana’s legs under his back. Then he says, “Hold on, this is a good chance to do some reps,” and he tucks his hands behind his back and starts doing actual fucking sit-ups. Ana laughs, rather helplessly, as she’s pitched to and fro and her hair swings along with her. Jack gets through twelve sit-ups before she has to slap his back and tell him to stop because she’s getting dizzy.  
  
When she finally rolls off him, she finds that Gabriel is sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. He’s brought a bottle of water and a pack of disposable disinfectant clothes, which are sitting next to him on the bed. Ana reaches for both without asking for permission and gulps down half the bottle before tossing it to Jack. The remaining toilettes soon sail over to him, as well.  
  
“Can I sleep here?” she asks, wiping water from the corner of her mouth. “I’ll take the floor.”  
  
Jack and Gabriel take up a lot of combined space, and the bed doesn't really allow another person to have a comfortable night of sleep.  
  
“You’re not going to see Fareeha?” Gabriel asks with studied neutrality.  
  
“It’s late,” she says stiffly. “She’s asleep.”  
  
Gabriel grunts. “You can have the bed. I’m being deployed in—” he glances at a clock— “five hours.”  
  
“What?” Ana blinks at him, then at Jack. “You were clear through the end of next week the last time I asked.”  
  
“That was a while ago.”  
  
“I’ll take the floor,” Jack cuts in. “If you want to stay.”  
  
Ana doesn’t answer him immediately. She sits on her knees and works her jaw from side to side, feeling her teeth scrape together. The room is terribly quiet. “Did I come here at a bad time?”  
  
“No,” Gabriel says right away. “It’s. Good to see you.”  
  
“Oh,” Ana says. She looks down at her hands, resting in her lap. “It’s good to see you, too.”  
  
“Come up here,” Jack says, patting the surface of the bed, and Gabriel climbs up with them. Ana leans all her weight against him until he allows himself to be flattened onto his back. She shoves Jack down next to him and then stretches herself out face down directly between them, lying atop half of each of their bodies. Her face rests neatly in the space between their necks.  
  
“We all fit,” she mumbles.  
  
Jack snorts and drapes an arm over her waist. A moment later, Gabriel’s arm settles over her, partially overlapping Jack’s.  
  
There's another moment of quiet before Ana bumps her nose against Jack’s ear and scrapes her teeth against his neck. “I’ll let you have the full twenty points for making Reyes come first. Twenty-five total! That was a good round for you.”  
  
“ _First_?” Gabriel says.  
  
“Oh, second, whatever. I just mean before Morrison did. That’s why it’s only twenty instead of fifty.”  
  
“Damn. Gotta try harder next time,” Jack says soberly. Gabriel sighs and puts his other hand over his own eyes.  
  
Ana flips her head around and glides a hand over the top of Gabriel’s head, feeling the stiff softness of his shorn hair. “The next time we do this, I want to be able to see your face. You look good when you’re getting fucked.”  
  
"Next time," Gabriel says, "I won't go easy on you."

Ana laughs and presses her fingers into his scalp. "Well, nothing else ever does, so why should you?"

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be read on [tumblr](http://strangefingers.tumblr.com/post/154570435839/a-whole-apart-crookedfingers-overwatch-video).


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